Desreal: lets make the family bigger!

He is so young, our Memphis, so young, so real.

It is a wonder, how he ventured so far from his mothers side. Lebanon, the dark mare of the deserts. The lurker, his blood. In a way, he hates her. Hates her for the split personality she presents him with. Hates her for loving him one moment, hating him, then loving him. Memphis in itself was far to much like his mother. But the he resembles much more of his father, physically.

He knows he has a brother, he knows his fathers name, Baraqel, but who he is he doesn’t know. But still, he vaguely wonders how he was able to escape her death watch. How he was able to escape her gaze, their gaze with the same orange-gold flecked eyes of fire, always moving always blazing.

The sand turns to earth as trees began to skirt around him. He travels, to where he does not know. He only knows the flaring heat of the deserts, the long days and the chilling nights. Or how few he has existed among. The colt is quite glorious though, in color. He is naturally, what your would call a palomino, with patch pieces of dark and light palomino, soft browns and smutty blacks. He still has a few years of shedding to do. But it is obvious this is what he will stay. A painting of gold, and pale, and light browns and blacks.

But there is one thing in particular. His mane and tail glow white and gold flames. Our light child with a heart of darkness. His face unemotional, empty and forgotten. Even as he moves into thicker woods (obviously Desreal but he has no idea) his emotions do not change.

He is only there for an hour(s?) before he hears them. Hears his fathers name, here unknown names, come from the most oddest of sources.

The fire boy moves in. Peering silently through the branches as he watches them. A smirk crosses his face before he crashes through the grown.

An entrance.

“I heard the name Baraqel, how do you know him?“ He looks to the colt, thinking it might even be his brother. (He doesn’t know his brother is green so it obviously couldn’t be this colt, he doesn’t know this though, obviously) He was oblivious to any and all there words, he doesn’t hear that the colts her brother, he doesn’t here that Baraqel is her brother. He doesn’t hear anything.

But in the end his eyes rest on the filly. And he completely ignores the other, for now.

Our lifeless child watches them, through his orange and gold flaming eyes.

Memphis, grow up faster!

m e m p h i s
i'll lower the casket
open the door and open the grave
FIRE III; BARAQEL AND LEBANON